


Xander Harris’ “Why Not to Drink: Lessons to be learned and the perils of having a crush”

by Spike_1790



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alcohol, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spike_1790/pseuds/Spike_1790
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunken thinkings of a drunken Xander’s mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Xander Harris’ “Why Not to Drink: Lessons to be learned and the perils of having a crush”

The blonde was an anomaly. Not his normal type at all. For all intents and purposes, this was a human body, but, not to put too fine a point on it, male. Definitely not his normal type. He blinked a few times, too aware he was staring. The blonde, HIS blonde, was starting to get uncomfortable. Xander watched as Spike took a long drink from the beer bottle, pink tongue darting out to lap up a stray drop that was sliding down the bottle’s neck. It was such a simple action, but one that stirred up desires that Xander had been holding back for too long. He knew Spike wasn’t gay, so Xander knew there was no chance of getting what he so desperately wanted.  
   
The bar was crowded, and it was his turn to buy drinks. If he stood up, Spike would know just how far Xander’s thoughts had strayed from the light-hearted conversation about the pro’s and con’s of kitten poker- Xander had been firmly on the con side of the discussion. Spike’s eyebrow was raised, waiting for an answer to a question that hadn’t been heard.  
   
“You okay, mate? You’re acting strange… er than usual.”  
   
“Erm…”  
   
“You’re not pissed enough. More beer” and Spike stood up and went to the bar. That did nothing to calm Xander’s libido- he had been treated to the sight of Spike’s jeans clad crotch as he stood up, and the vision that was Spike’s arse in those perfectly tight jeans as he walked away. Xander found himself mentally undressing the blonde vampire, picturing the tight black t-shirt being ripped off the body to expose the beautiful chest and washboard abs, the muscles rippling as he stretched. Xander imagined himself unzipping the black jeans that hid that perfect arse, cool, hard, uncut column of flesh, and corded muscles in those strong legs. Xander wondered if Spike had been a dancer as a human, which immediately caused an image of Spike in tight lycra, that highlighted every part of his body, to appear in Xander’s head.  
   
Xander rearranged his own jeans to better hide the bulge that had formed there. He was aware of Spike returning to the seat opposite him, and a full bottle of beer appear next to the three empty ones, and he could smell buffalo wings. That snapped him out of his reverie. He looked up from the table to see Spike looking worried.  
   
“Gunna tell me what’s up, or you gunna sit there looking like you’ve been abducted by alien sheep?”  
   
“Alien sheep?”  
   
“Just making sure you were paying attention” Spike shrugged. Xander drained the beer in one long draught. Spike looked impressed, but was waiting for an answer. Xander felt the alcohol start to take effect. He was drinking more, and drinking it quicker, than he normally would do. So Spike wanted an answer. Did he really want to know how images of the blonde had fuelled frantic wanks in the shower every morning, and most nights too? Would this Master Vampire really want to hear about how Xander wanted to have him bend over so he could push into that tight hole and ram home over and over again, each time hitting Spike’s prostate, until Spike spilled onto the bed, screaming his release, spasming muscles clamping down and milking every drop of cum from Xander’s body? Or just how jealous Xander was of Buffy for stealing Spike’s heart? He couldn’t stop himself thinking about how the slayer had used Spike, violated what should have been Xander’s; however willing Spike had been, he WAS Xander’s.  
   
A single tear fell and he moved to hide his face. He had comforted Spike after Buffy’s confession, knowing how bad it must have hurt the vampire to be used and discarded, especially after Drusilla had left him and Angel had left their little family. _Slayer bitch._ But Xander refused to let Spike see him cry. Spike was beautiful and perfect, and Xander wanted nothing more than to worship every inch of the pale flesh hidden under black leather and denim.  
   
He had no idea when they had gone outside, but he was leaning heavily on Spike, who was saying something about home and bed. Xander hoped that meant what he wanted it to mean. He stopped walking (staggering) and turned to look into the piercing blue eyes of the vampire supporting him. Xander opened his mouth to speak, slurred out a few syllables, and closed his mouth again, just sober enough to know that coherency was beyond him now. And that only left one viable option.  
   
He leaned forward, choosing to believe that the strong arms around him were there for something more intimate than holding up a drunk friend. He opened his mouth in what he hoped was a sexy and suggestive manner. He leaned in towards Spike, his eyes focused on those perfect pink lips, hoping the bulge in his pants wasn’t too obvious now he had no table to hide himself under. He focused on the movement of those pink lips, rather than the words being spoken. Those lips should be put to better use than talking.  
   
He snapped back to reality with a jolt, just as the floor began to spin violently. His only coherent thought was _“Shit, Don’t throw up on Spike”_ before he lost the nights alcohol to the gutter. _Oh, yeah, what a sex god._  
   
Spike was rubbing Xander’s back, waiting for the sickness to subside and the journey back to Xander’s apartment to continue. And Xander promptly passed out.  
  
***  
   
He woke up. It was dark. He was naked. He turned his head to look at the clock by his bed, groaning as the numbers glared out at him and his pounding headache. 4:30 am. A glass of water and two painkillers greeted his return to consciousness. He took them gratefully from the bedside cabinet before walking slowly to the kitchen, careful not to jar his fragile head. He stopped in the living room and took in the sight.  
   
The television was on, casting an eerie blue light over the shirtless body curled up on the couch. Spike shifted in his seat to look at Xander through sleepy eyes.  
   
“Feeling better, lightweight?”  
   
Xander nodded. It was all he could do. Spike stood up, exposing his half-naked body. _So confident,_ Xander thought, amazed he could think at all with a semi-naked vampire in his living room.  
   
“Right, I’ll be off then.”  
   
“Spike, wait, I…” A long pause followed.  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Nothing. I just… thanks.”  
   
A moments hesitation. A step forwards. Xander hugs Spike. Spike hugs him back. Friendly, yes, but a hug none the less. Just before Spike leaves, he gives Xander a quick kiss on the lips. Then he’s gone. Xander goes to bed again. Sighing, Xander reaches under the sheets and deals with his very hard problem, alone again, but with the memory of Spike’s lips on his to help him along.


End file.
